Then He Kissed Me
by phandalory
Summary: When Mikaela, who has been struggling with her career and self-identity her whole life, chases after her dream, she is full of hope. Through heartbreak, defeat, and rejection she still manages to push forward. However when she is reluctantly paired up with Yuuichirou, rookie singer, dancer, and performer, her breath is taken away.


Mikaela raised her feet as she leaped over her suitcase, the brown, leather bag open on the floor with the contents draped over both sides. Tall heels splattered with vibrant flowers clicked against the polished hardwood floor that belonged to her house. The sun crept through the open window as flies darted through like shooting stars, the summer's heat making every living thing go mad.

Phone pressed against her ear, Mikaela then cleared her throat. "Y-Yeah? Yeah, I'm listening," She spoke into the phone, her upper body dropping in the blink of an eye to evade the strings that hung horizontally from one wall to the other.

Mikaela's home wasn't the cleanest, if she'd admit it. It was unorganized – chaotic – with five strings haphazardly hung across the living room. On the white thread, wooden clips kept many pictures attached to it – all holding radiant pictures of nature, the city she lived in, and her friends.

The disorder of her living room resulted in her ducking, swerving, and jumping to avoid the objects hanging, but did she care? No, Mikaela believed it was beautiful and was quite content with the room's current state.

Though at the moment, she refused to jump and was happy to stomp over the pictures which laid on the ground. That was mostly because the photos which captured her and Ferid were the ones she trampled over.

On top of the foot marks left on them, red paint was aggressively splattered over the front. More specifically: over Ferid's face. In hindsight, taking up a new project – re-painting the dirty, brown walls red – after a breakup shouldn't have seemed like a good idea.

But this was Mikaela. None of her ideas were necessarily good. She just somehow made them work.

 _"I'm just saying,"_ Krul continued from the other side of the phone. _"If this isn't a good time–"_

Mikaela turned a corner, the curled, yellow wire attached to the phone running out as the distance between her and the kitchen grew. The new house phone was attached to the wall located near the sink, but the cord only went so far. "No– no. This is a great time."

Pale hands with nails covered in a clear shine were extended in front of her while the phone was held between her ear and shoulder. Mikaela reached around and struggled to grab the hair brush off the couch.

How did it even get over here in the first place? She thought.

"I need this, sis." Mikaela begged and made her way over to the bathroom.

 _"You sound rushed,"_ Krul mused.

Mikaela hummed as a smile broke out on her face, "Rushed to get out of the house so I can see you." The brush ran through her blonde curls as she spoke, but she soon dropped it and raised her hands. Delicate fingers pushed her own cheeks up as she stared into the mirror. "Stop trying to talk me out of this."

 _"I'm not trying to talk you out of anything!"_ Krul exclaimed, _"After all it was my idea to have lunch together."_

"Your brilliant, brilliant idea."

 _"Enough with the sass, dear me!"_ Krul playfully yelled from the other side of the line, a laugh following. _"But Mika, are you sure you're okay?"_

"Peachy," Mikaela removed her hands from her face and instead ran them both through blonde hair. "Perfectly fine."

 _"And you're not still thinking about him?"_

There was a pause from Mikaela's side – the blonde now hesitant to speak when her mouth suddenly went dry. Mikaela knew she couldn't keep Krul waiting too long, for it would be obvious that she was at a loss of words. So, swallowing nervously, Mikaela let her hands drop so they could run down her sides. The blue fabric that belonged to the dress she wore felt nice under her fingers, and soon her eyes dropped.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mikaela spoke slowly.

It was Krul's turn to go silent. _"Mikaela–"_

"Krul," The blonde spoke in the same assertive, yet gentle, tone of voice. "I don't want to talk about it."

 _"But you can't avoid it forever, nor_ _can you_ _expect me to not bring it_ _up!"_ Krul said, the clank of a dish coming through the speaker. _"When my sister refuses to leave the house for two straight weeks I have a right to ask 'are you_ _okay.'"_

Mikaela pressed the phone against her other ear. "I think you're over-exaggerating the weeks."

 _"One and a half?"_

"You're still–" Mikaela threw her hands up and blew air out of her pursed lips. "Now that's just too much."

 _"The point is, you've been in_ _your house a long time."_

"I don't see why that's a problem."

Krul groaned, _"It is a big problem! You're_ _my sister and I care for you."_ She paused for a moment. _"Look, I know Ferid–"_

Mikaela, taken back, cringed. "Please," Her voice cracked. "Don't– Don't say his name."

 _"Mikaela–"_

"Please," Mikaela begged, and Krul mumbled an "alright" before continuing.

 _"I know… things have been hectic lately, and that… you've been err– overwhelmed,"_ Krul cleared her throat. _"But I just want you to know that I'm excited to see you today and I hope you can get back up on your feet."_

Mikaela's lips flicked up into a smile as she emerged from the bathroom. Her hips swayed as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, making her way over to the door. "Well," Her voice was strong, confident. "You should know, I am already back on my feet. And I'm standing stronger than ever."

 _"I see your confidence is coming back,"_ Krul giggled. _"Now, I have to run or I'll miss my cab. Twenty-fourth street's café, right?"_

"Yes, that's it," Mikaela nodded and reached down to grab her purse. "Goodbye, Krul."

 _"See you soon, Mika-dear."_ And with that, Krul hung up. Excitement bubbled inside of Mikaela and her heart felt warm. She was starting to becoming fervent because of the amount of time she had spent in the house.

Mikaela hated to admit it, but her breakup with Ferid had really taken a toll on her. Now that she was doing somewhat better and was able to stop thinking about that asshole for a while, she could feel her spirit rising.

She was overjoyed that she'd get to see her sister, considering that Krul was one of the managers and owners of a popular clothing store in the city. Mikaela's sister rarely had time to take breaks and relax, so when Krul offered to have lunch with her…

Mikaela was ecstatic.

Though, the more she thought about the lunch date… something clicked inside of Mikaela and made her stop reaching for the knob that belonged to the front door.

One, two, three.

With her head suddenly tilted up, the blonde let out a loud groan before she squeezed her eyes shut out of frustration.

"Dammit!" She yelled and shook her hands around. Mikaela resisted the urge to stomp her feet around like a child. Hey, she was upset. Was that wrong of her? "Dammit, dammit– hell."

 _How am I supposed to get there without a car?_

The only car Mikaela had was the one she shared with Ferid. So when he left… he took it with him. Oh, how she missed her red Cadillac.

Mikaela carelessly pulled the phone forward before releasing it, allowing the new piece of technology to fly backwards into the kitchen. Though it had to twist and fling around a few objects before it got there, when it did there was a loud crash.

"Not again," Her voice was breathy and underlined with irritation.

But now that her hands were free they flew down so she could frantically dig through her purse, praying that she would have money in it for the bus – or maybe even a cab. However, she pulled out empty hands. Frustration began to rise inside of her, so she took a deep breath and tilted her head to the side.

"No," Mikaela breathed out. "No, I will not let this get the best of me."

The front door was swung open at that and Mikaela wasted no time. As she ran down the pathway that led to her house, she flung her nude purse over her shoulder so when she sprung forward to get on her bike it wouldn't fall. She followed through with her newly devised plan – now firmly set on the tan seat of her creamy, blue bike.

The back of her heel was used so she could rest and stay in place, but it didn't stay like that for long because once she glanced at her watch she was off.

 _I have twenty minutes,_ she thought as she peddled down the sidewalk, body shifting to turn and avoid a crisp, blue mailbox on the concrete's edge. The wind pushed Mikaela's curled hair back, and the sun fell down on her flushed face while causing her sapphire eyes to sparkle. She knew she couldn't go too fast, and honestly… she didn't want to. Everything around her was so bright, beautiful, dazzling. Mikaela just wanted to take it all in.

Sweat began to run down her forehead because of how far she was going. Mikaela knew it was an inconvenience to live on the edge of the city – where the grass was high and there were flowers as far as the eye could see. The stunning view of nature made up for the distance between her home and the city though.

However, Mikaela would have to get used to it considering that her musical gigs were usually in the city. It would be a pain to get there, but performing would be worth it because in the end she would be doing what she loved.

Time was ticking, and by the time Mikaela finally reached the city she was five minutes late. Her heart hammered against her chest because of the fact that she had been peddling for twenty straight minutes. Mikaela could practically hear her heartbeat on her ears! She disregarded the fact that she was late and couldn't stop herself though. Mikaela pulled over on the side of the road and placed her hands on her hips triumphantly.

Quickly reaching into her purse, Mikaela took out her camera and turned to the side. One eye closed, the blonde leaned forward to get closer to the camera before she snapped a photo. Mikaela made sure to be careful so the picture would turn out perfect. From where she was standing, the sun was behind the low buildings and the grass was flowing behind it.

Mikaela would sound desperate if she said that she needed to capture this moment, but she sure as hell would think it.

When a car finally honked at her, Mikaela realized that she had drifted out into the street. Blushing in embarrassment, Mikaela stepped aside to get back on the sidewalk, slowly drifting back into reality.

"Shit!" She cried out and picked up her bike, taking off into a sprint towards the café. Mikaela knew she was late, but a part of her didn't care. At least she got the picture.

 _No,_ she thought and shook her head. Once she gained enough speed she jumped back on her bike. She only had three more blocks to go. S _tay focused, you never do this with Krul._

Ignoring stop lights and weaving in and out of crowds, Mikaela had a record breaking time and the café was soon in her sighs. White umbrellas decorated with green stripes stood tall on the outside of the cute building, and underneath them were black, polished tables and chairs. As Mikaela grew closer, she took in the new paint-job the café had received. The outside was no longer a faded pink but instead a soft yellow. It was an amazing sight.

 _I guess I haven't been here in awhile._ Mikaela couldn't stop herself from frowning. After all, it was her favorite place to sit, eat, and drink.

Located in the middle of the city, it was a great place to relax and take a break. If one were to look out the window, they would see the classic cars speed by while people with large shopping bags explored the streets. It was also next to a bookstore, a few clubs, and the theater.

Oh, Mikaela desperately wanted to play in the theater. It was her dream. She would make it come true no matter what.

"Excuse me!" Mikaela called out with a smile and hopped off her bike, waving at the person she almost ran into. "Sorry!" She shouted one more time before leaning her bike up against the yellow bricks. Mikaela fixed her dress and hair, then entered the dainty cafe.

Blue eyes scanned the room and locked onto Krul, who was sitting next to the counter. Mikaela's smile dropped when she saw her sister's deadly stare, so she sheepishly walked over to her so she could throw her arms around Krul.

"Krul!" Mikaela yelled hesitantly and kissed her cheek. "Oh, how I've-"

"You're late, Mika." Krul cut her off and looked up at her sister with a frown. The oldest girl wasn't necessarily mad, but she was upset. "What took you so long?"

"Well you see," Mikaela took a deep breath as if she were leading into an excuse that was grand and elaborate. "I don't have a car." She deadpanned.

Krul's face scrunched together, "What do you mean?"

"It's just that, I don't have a car."

"Then how did you get here?!"

"Ahh," Mikaela suddenly grinned. "I rode my bike, of course. It wasn't too hard. But Krul, Krul, you must see this." Plopping down in her chair, Mikaela fished through her bag before retrieving the photo she took. The white which was originally on the film had faded away, leaving the photo quite colorful and dazzling. "Don't you like it?"

Krul smacked her lips and hesitated. "That's why you were late, wasn't it?"

"Of course not!" Mikaela gasped. "This only took a second, sis!"

"Right, right," Krul giggled. "Well, it's quite pretty."

"Isn't it?!"

"I just wish your silly hobbies wouldn't get in the way of the important things – your life." Krul sighed, but she still smiled.

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "And," She dragged out the word and slouched over, resting her arms on the table. "We're back."

"Back to what?" Asked Krul.

"You acting disappointed in my choices," Mikaela explained as she tilted her head to the side. Ennui and defeated dripped through her voice as she pushed her hair back. "You used to be proud of me!"

"I still am!" Krul said in shock, both of the girls now giggling.

Mikaela shook her head and pointed at her sister. "No, no. You haven't attended one of my shows in a long time!"

It was true, Krul hadn't. Mikaela knew her sister wasn't pleased with the choices she was making. That didn't mean she didn't support her though. When Mikaela needed it, her sister would lend a hand and give her a little push. But that didn't mean Krul encouraged Mikaela to continue to be a musician.

When Mikaela first started performing, she barely made any money. Krul was there to help her though, and the blonde appreciated it more than anything. She was extremely grateful for her sister, but Mikaela just wished she would be more open.

She knew she couldn't be picky though… without Krul, Mikaela wouldn't be where she was today. Krul was a blessing to Mikaela. Without her… transitioning wouldn't be possible. It had been three months since she started taking hormones, and she was thankful for every second. Mikaela was thankful for her sister.

She couldn't be upset that Krul never came to her performances… or constantly asked her to stop and work in one of her shops… right?

"I've just been busy," Krul shrugged. "And you haven't really performed in a while. Do you have any performance dates planned?"

As Mikaela thought, Krul leaned over and tapped on a waiter's shoulder. The oldest girl smiled as she requested two cups of black coffee as well as a croissant.

"Not… at the moment." Mikaela said wistfully, trying to keep her smile present.

"Then maybe…" Krul paused and took a chance. "You should come work for m-"

Mikaela cut her off, "But I should have something soon so I'll keep in touch!" She crossed one leg over the other and reached out to grab both of Krul's hands, smiling ear-to-ear. "Never fear."

"I was never fearful in the first place," Krul mused. "But if that's what you want to do… then I won't say another peep… for now."

That was good enough for Mikaela. The blonde's pale thumb ran across Krul's knuckles as she nodded and took a deep breath. The job conversation was out of the way, leaving them in dangerous space - a new territory for Mikaela. Krul had always been unpredictable and Mikaela never knew what she was going to say or do. She just hoped it wouldn't be anything too bad.

A girl could hope.

"I remember, when we were little, you used to play the violin for me," Krul spoke up, staring down at her sister. "You would always pester me at the break of dawn."

Mikaela nodded. "Because that's when mother and father were gone so I could play as loud as I wanted," She said and grinned. "Don't pretend like you didn't like it."

"I never said I didn't!" Krul's mouth dropped into an 'o' shape. "I was merely remembering. I never said it was bad… or good."

"H-Hey!"

"You were just learning! Can you blame me for saying that?!" Asked Krul as she laughed. "The instrument always squeaked."

"Maybe so, but I'm better now! So if you ever want to give it another chance…" Mikaela watched the waiter place the croissant and two cups of coffee down on the table. She picked up her white napkin and laid it across her lap. "You should come to my show. I play the piano at this restaurant soon..."

Raising the bitter drink to her lips, Krul took a small sip and hummed. Mikaela did the same, shivering as the rich and potent drink danced across her tongue. "We'll see," Krul said after some time, putting her drink down so she could rip a piece off of the pastry.

Mikaela decided to leave it at that… again. She didn't need Krul to say any more because the blonde knew she was trying - trying to understand, adjust. That's all she could ever want. So she continued to sip at her drink, smacking her lips a few times because she never could get used to how strong it was.

In all honestly, she was still obsessed with sugary drinks. Mikaela craved them and could drown many cups of hot chocolate if she tried, but she was with Krul… and for some reason she felt like she couldn't do that.

She sighed as her eyes drifted to the side, and Mikaela started out the window in awe. She couldn't peel her eyes away from the angelic sight. Mikaela longed to go outside and feel the warm sun on her skin while the breeze tickled her ears. She almost didn't hear Krul speak to her after a while, but when Krul finally tapped her wrist to get her attention she looked back at her sister.

"What?"

"Did you hear me?" Asked Krul.

Mikaela shook her head. "No, sorry. I just…" She sighed and raised her glass. "It's beautiful outside. I love it. I almost didn't want to stop riding my bike." She joked and flashed a toothy smile. "Though, I was running out of breath!" Mikaela brought the cup to her lips.

"I asked, what happened between you and Ferid?"

The hot liquid burned the back of Mikaela's throat and she unexpectedly leaned forward so she could cough. Her eyes widened, her teeth clenched, and to Mikaela it felt like her heart dropped. At a loss for words, all she could do was sit there and stare down into the dark liquid which swirled in her cup.

She watched it closely as she tried to form a sentence – or at least an idea. It was like her mind was blank and she was lost. Mikaela didn't know what to say, which was rare. The blonde always had something to say or an idea to express.

Why did Ferid make her blood run cold? She hated it. She hated him. Mikaela hated how even though he was gone, Ferid continued to ruin her life.

"Nothing. Nothing happened," Mikaela said, voice cold. "You know I don't want to talk about this."

"And you know I'm worried, so please." Krul pushed forward, "Please just tell me what happened. You haven't told anyone."

"And I won't tell anyone for as long as I live, so just drop it." Mikaela snapped, slamming her cup down on the table, the clank it made causing a few people's head to turn.

Krul licked her lips, "You know I'm not doing this to rile you up."

"Then why do you keep asking?"

"Because I want to make sure you're okay!" Krul said desperately, not focusing on anything but her sister. "You were with Ferid for such a long time – since your last year of highschool. Now you're twenty-three and alone. It's… it's a lot to adjust to."

Mikaela took a deep breath. She knew her sister was right and that she was struggling, but she didn't want to acknowledge it. She didn't want to acknowledge defeat, she wanted to move past it.

She wanted to focus on her career. Mikaela was determined, she wanted to go places. She wanted to play in the theater, where more than a thousand people would watch her play as she sat center stage. Whether it be her playing the violin or piano, Mikaela wanted people to watch her.

"Maybe what happened between us was for the better," Said Mikaela. "Now I can focus on myself. I'll be fine, I don't need to be with someone."

"...And you're sure about that?"

"About what?"

"Focusing on your career," Krul explained. "Maybe it's not the right choice."

"We literally just went over this," Mikaela said with exhaustion, head dropping. Her hands which rested on her lap clenched into fists and her foot tapped against the ground. One leg was still crossed over the other, allowing her dress to rise a bit. As she stared down at her lap, she swallowed nervously.

"One day, when my name is spelled out in lights, you'll see," Mikaela said slowly, biting her bottom lip. "You'll see that I was meant to do this."

"If that does happen, then I'll admit defeat." Mikaela couldn't help but to smile at Krul's words. "I love you. Keep going."

"Love you too, sis," Mikaela said and reached over, cupping Krul's cheek. She used her thumb to rub the plump skin softly before lifting it up, only for it to slam back down to slap Krul on the cheek.

"Ow!" Krul gasped, mouth dropping. "What was that for?!" She pulled away and placed a hand over her cheek.

Mikaela shrugged, "For doubting me."

"I'm just being a worried sister, it's not a crime or anything," Krul said and stood up, Mikaela following her. The pink-haired sister moved forward and threw her arms around Mikaela, who gladly returned the warm, caring hug. She had missed her sister.

"Let's do this again sometime?" Asked Krul.

Mikaela nodded as she cleared her throat, "Of course." She said, longing to hug her sister longer, but she knew Krul probably had to go.

"Then, until later. And I expect you to check in with me, Mika. Or I will come over to your house and knock some sense into you!" Krul said and grinned evilly.

"You wouldn't," Mikaela said with a gasp and placed a hand over her chest. "Please, no."

"Oh, I will. And I know how much you love it when I mess with your stuff and put everything away," Said Krul sarcastically as she grabbed her parasol, hanging it on her arm as she collected her belongings.

Purse in her hand, a closed parasol now resting on her shoulder, Mikaela knew it was time to leave and began leading the way to the door. Both of their heels clicked against the tiles, the clicks echoing throughout the room until they were finally outside. The sound then drifted off and blended with the city's noise.

"Are you going to work?" Mikaela asked as she faced Krul, looking at her expectantly.

Krul nodded. "Yes, just for a while. I should be on my way." She said and leaned forward, placing a kiss on Mikaela's cheek. The blonde did the same, and after their farewells Mikaela watched Krul leave.

Her sister's black pencil skirt hugged her body and complimented her velvet shirt. It was hard to believe they were related. They looked so different, but in a good way.

"Alright," Mikaela clapped her hands together and spun on her heels, making her way over to her bike.

Her legs ached and she was hesitant to get back on the bike, but Mikaela knew she had to eventually. Maybe I can just walk around for a bit, She thought, raising her head to look up at the sky.

Mikaela reached into her bag and wrapped her camera's strap around her arm to secure it. As she walked with a hop in each step down the sidewalk, she kept the device raised.

As she walked, the sound of singing rushed into her ears.

"And do I love you my oh my

Yeah river deep mountain high

If I lost you would I cry."

Honestly, she couldn't have been more happy. The sun was shining, the sky was blue – things were finally clearing up.

That was true, until the man singing ran into her and sent Mikaela's camera flying out of her hands. A gasp escaped Mikaela's lips as she watched the camera drop onto the concrete, the screen and lens breaking once it landed. Wobbling, Mikaela could feel her balance slipping away as she fell to the side, and all her breath left her body when a pair of warm arms were suddenly wrapped around her.

"Woah, woah." The man said and kept Mikaela steady. Though Mikaela was wearing heels, the man with green eyes was still taller than her. "Be careful, blondie."

Swallowing nervously, Mikaela nodded. However, she was barely paying attention. All she could focus on was the camera on the ground – it's screen cracked and it's lens shattered.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Mikaela wobbled on her feet and ran a hand down her face. "This can't be happening."

"Let me get that for you," Mikaela's eyes peeked open so she could see the man who was leaning down to retrieve her camera. "Ah, shit."

"It's bad, isn't it?" Mikaela asked the stranger, not wanting to look any more. "It's ruined."

Once the man stood up straight, Mikaela took in his appearance. He wore navy blue slacks with a long-sleeved, white shirt, though the sleeves were rolled up to reveal his tan arms. Disheveled, raven hair rested on his head and complimented his emerald eyes. Who was this charming man?

"I bet it could be fixed. I wouldn't fret too much," He explained, suddenly extended a hand. "Yuuichirou Amane, but you can also call me 'asshole-who-broke-your-camera.' I guess I do deserve it."

Mikaela couldn't stop herself from laughing a little, "Ah, Mikaela Shindo."

"Please," Yuuichirou started as he flashed a charming smile. "Let me pay for this to get fixed."

"Oh! No, no," Mikaela said and took the camera out of his hands. "It was just a mistake, I could never–"

"Please, it's my fault." Yuuichirou stated and dug into his pocket, trying to fish out his wallet. "After all, I was the one being careless."

"But I believe your singing made up for it," Mikaela teased.

A chuckle escaped Yuuichirou's mouth and made Mikaela's heart flutter. Though she was still upset, something about the man made her forget about it. It was odd.

And then again, why was she putting so much trust into this man?

"And I…" Yuuichirou smacked his hands against his pants. "Don't have my wallet."

Mikaela cleared her throat, "You don't have to pay, it's really okay. Like I said before, it was just an accident."

"But what kind of gentlemen would I be if I didn't? Or at least a decent human being," Yuuichirou explained and bit his lip. "Do you have a home phone, sweetheart?"

 _S-Sweetheart?_

"U-Uhm," The tips of Mikaela's ears burned. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"Then I'll just give you my number. Maybe we can meet up some time and I can personally give you the money. If not, I can mail it to you?" Yuuichirou suggested, looking at Mikaela hesitantly. A soft smile now rested on his face as his eyes shimmered. "Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," Mikaela breathed out and nodded slowly. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Yuuichirou looked from side-to-side before grabbing an old piece of newspaper which drifted on the ground. Luckily he was carrying a pen, for he used it to write down his home number down on the paper.

Mikaela couldn't help but notice, and blush, when Yuuichirou put a heart at the end of the numbers.

"There you go," Yuuichirou said and handed the paper to Mikaela, who gladly took it.

"Thank you," Mikaela said softly, locking eyes with Yuuichirou for what seemed like forever. She didn't want to look away, but she knew it was starting to get awkward. "Well… then…"

"I'll get out of your hair," Yuuichirou cleared his throat as he pulled away. "Again, sorry. Have a good rest of the day, missy."

"You too," Mikaela said and watched Yuuichirou do a small bow before turning around to walk away. The blonde did the same, the piece of newspaper crunched in her hand and her bike by her side as she made her way home.

.x.

It was night when Mikaela finally got home.

She was exhausted as she crashed into the house, falling asleep on the couch right away and staying there until the moon shone above her and fell through the skylight. When Mikaela finally woke up, she felt a bit refreshed… but her legs still felt as if they were filled with led.

Groaning as she stood up, Mikaela remembered that she had forgotten to call Yuuichirou about her camera.

Maybe now was the right time?

 _But what if he's sleeping? I wouldn't want to bug him,_ Mikaela shook her head and wobbled around as she stood up. She carelessly took her heels off and threw them on the ground. _Wait, why am I acting so familiar with this man? I should call him whenever because he said he'd pay. I don't need to be hesitant. I don't know him._

Mikaela sniffled her nose, feet smacking against the hardwood floor as she made her way into the kitchen. Her head hung low and her eyes were barely open, but Mikaela knew she had to get this over with.

Before going to the phone though, she stopped at her bulletin board which held all her important dates – such as auditions, concert dates, and friend meetups.

 **Sanguinem Theater Auditions – March 24**

"Just one more week," Mikaela mumbled, but on the inside she was thrilled. She was going to take the place as the new performer! She just knew it.

As she twirled in happiness when she went over to the home phone, the piece of newspaper in her hand, she closed her eyes. Mikaela let her body fall to the side so she could lean up against the wall, and as she did so she ran a hand against it dreamily. Nothing could ruin her day. She wouldn't let anything break her.

Mikaela smacked her lips once she peeled her eyes open, picking up the yellow phone and once again placing it between her ear and shoulder as she dialed the number.

 _Just who are you, Yuuichirou Amane?_

The phone rang, and Mikaela tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to introduce herself all over again? Maybe start with an opener?

Her mind was going a mile a minute as her head swarmed with thoughts. However, she suddenly came to a halt when a certain noise reached her ears.

 _Beep, beep, beep, beep._

"No," Mikaela gasped and pulled the phone away, staring down at it. "No– asshole!" She yelled, slamming the phone back into it's holder. Mikaela raised her hands and ran them through her hair, pulling on it a little as she did so. "This can't be happening."

Mikaela had finally figured out who Yuuichirou was: a dirty liar. A flirt. A deceiver. A dick.

He had given her a fake number.


End file.
